SOAP BOX

"Made with the juice of real lemons and pure Rose Otto oil from the world famous Rose Valley in Kazanlak, Bulgaria."

No. This isn't the description of a perfume or potpourri, this list of delectable ingredients is for the fanciest soda in the shop: Fentiman's Rose Lemonade.

Yes those ingredients went into a soda! It's flavor delivers exactly what the name promises. Flavors of citrus, sweetness, and the subtlety sweet perfume of freshly squeezed rose juice. What mad man would concoct such a concept?

According to the official website of the British beverage barons at Fentiman's "in 1905, Thomas Fentiman, an iron puddler from Cleckheaton, England was approached by a fellow tradesman for a loan. A deal was struck and a recipe for botanically brewed ginger beer was provided as security. The loan was never repaid so Thomas became the owner of the unique recipe. Thomas began using the recipe and producing botanically brewed ginger beer which he delivered door-to-door using a horse and cart for transport. His ginger beer was stored in hand made stone jars known as ‘grey hens’ which were stamped with an image of Thomas’ pet dog ‘Fearless’ who had won awards for obedience at the famous ‘Crufts’ dog competition. Fentiman’s ginger beer quickly became very popular and the family business grew, with several production factories being opened in the North East of England."

That's such a weird story, but it's true, and also, it's awesome.

Imagine the scenario...

"Sir, I need a loan." Said John Tradesman, in a humble tone.

"I see." Answered Thomas Fentiman, The Iron Puddler, as he cautiously stroked his beard. "Go on." He said earnestly.

"I am a simple man with few skills, even less money, and zero collateral." Continued John.

Taken aback Thomas Fentiman exclaimed in an incredulous tone "You want a loan for MY money, yet YOU have no money nor collateral to support your bid?! Get out of here. I may be a simple iron peddler, but I've worked hard for my money, and know the value of it. Now, out of my sight."

Eyes darting back and forth John Tradesman feverishly wracked his brain and searched his soul. He took a deep breath and, in a whisper, a single word squeaked out "Recipe."

"Recipe?" Fentiman quietly questioned.

"Recipe." Replied John, in an even fainter voice.

Mr. Fentiman didn't know how he knew, but he knew, somehow, deep down inside, that he'd be making a living selling botanically brewed beverages alongside his award-winning pooch and trusty steed traversing the English countryside.

"Deal." Said Mr. Fentiman, hand extended.

"Deal!" Exclaimed John Tradesman, shaking Mr. Fentiman's hand, a hand that one day swiftly take the recipe for his own.

And I'm glad he did. Here we are, over 100 years later and, just like that, you too can drink a cold bottle of collateral.